To Be a Secretary
by Carter Lee Grace
Summary: She accepted immortality from her father when it was offered. Unfortunately, it didn't end up the way she expected. Meet Kristie, Hermes's new secretary. Oneshot.


**Hello, world of Fanfiction. So the idea for this story was taken from a line in Persephone Files for Divorce by I'mTheGirlWhoLearnedToFly. (I'm not sure she knows about this, actually, but you should check out her story.) I warn you: it's pretty random, and Aphrodite is insanely out of control, but I hope you all like it :D**

**Disclaimer: Really, I don't own Percy Jackson. This is pretty obvious.**

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><p>Maybe I should've gotten suspicious when Dad offered me immortality for no real reason except that I was "most worthy of this honor".<p>

He always did like Travis and Connor better, but I told myself that Lord Zeus had only given Hermes permission to make one demigod immortal (which is true, as I found out when eavesdropping on Aphrodite complaining about me). No, Dad probably thought "_hm, which of my kids should I put through eternal torture?" _and ended up picking me.

When Hermes first asked me if I wanted to be a goddess last month, I was actually going to deny it; I didn't want to leave camp and all my friends. But when my best friend Serena kept yelling at me with her daughter-of-Athena logic as to why I absolutely positively should accept, I packed up some of my stuff and moved up to Mount Olympus with my dad and all the other immortals. I'm not really sure what I expected life to be like as a goddess, but it most definitely was _not_ what I got.

I'm my dad's secretary.

Well, officially, my title is Secretary of Hermes, God of Commerce, Thieves, Travelers, Sports, Athletes, and Border Crossings, Messenger of the Gods, and Guide to the Underworld. There was a ceremony where I got my "goddess" name, and I've just learned to remember all of it. It's a serious mouthful, but that really hasn't been my biggest concern. My life is too busy for that.

Finally reaching the end of the long hallway in Mount Olympus, I knock on Aphrodite's door, her twenty ton box of makeup at my feet. As she opens the door, her pristine perfect appearance makes me wonder why in Hades she needs all this stuff. It'd make my job a heck of a lot easier. It's astonishing how _annoying_ Aphrodite is. I always assumed she'd be an airhead, what with her being the goddess of love and beauty, but she cares _so much_ about her looks.

"Huh, _you again_," she says, not bothering to keep the hatred out of her voice anymore. "Well? What are you waiting for? Bring the box inside!" She turns sharply on her six-inch stilettos, shoes click-clacking as I struggle to lift the very large, very heavy package. I don't particularly understand why she can't just use her godly powers to teleport it into her room, but I suppose she enjoys watching my torture.

See, contrary to popular belief, a new immortal being doesn't just _know_ how to use his or her godly powers. We have to _learn_, and then _train_, or else we'll end up broken up into air particles when we try to do that disappear-and-reappear-somewhere-else thing. (Not that I'd have personal experience with that…but for anyone who ends up that way, you should hope that Athena is nearby.) Therefore, due to my lack of time (and talent with things like this), I'm stuck with my winged shoes and doing stuff the mortal way.

Aphrodite points to a spot on the hot pink carpet covering the floor of her room, which I assume to mean that I should leave it there. Releasing the weight on my arms, I pull out a piece of paper from my pocket and read off of it, "Lady Aphrodite, I also have a message fro-"

"_Excuse me!_" the goddess screams at an obnoxiously high decibel, "You incompetent idiot! You could've damaged my precious nail polish! Do you know how hard it is to keep those in perfect condition? They have to be exactly the right shade or I'll look _hideous_! Do you not understand?"

"Um," I start, unsure of how to respond to a rant like that, "I'm sorry, Lady Aphrodite. I'll never make such a stupid, amateurish mistake again." It seems to appease her, so I continue with my previously cut off sentence. "I have a message from you from Lord Hermes. He asks that you please send all makeup orders directly to me, because he has to make sure his inbox isn't too clogged, in case important matters come up and he must be reached immediately." I finish reading off the exact words from the paper in front of me before pocketing it again.

Clearly, those were bad words to say.

"_WHAT?_ IS HERMES TRYING TO IMPLY THAT MY MAKEUP IS NOT _IMPORTANT_? IT IS HIGHLY CRUCIAL, AND SHOULD NOT BE DEALT WITH BY PEOPLE LIKE YOU! I'VE SPENT _CENTURIES_ MAKING SURE HERMES KNOWS HOW EXACTLY TO ORGANIZE AND STACK MY MAKEUP, THE PROPER NAMES AND COLORS-" She keeps ranting, her hands waving dramatically around her. While her back is turned, I quickly sprint out of the room, seriously hoping that she doesn't notice me.

I hear a loud _ding_, signifying that I have a new email. Digging through the messenger bag slung across my shoulder, I find my new, extremely high-tech phone in one of the fifty or so side pockets. Clicking through my inbox, five new emails pop up from Hephaestus…ordering hammers and nails and a bunch of other tools.

See, as a girl who is friends with a daughter of Aphrodite, I'm able to understand her mother's jabbering about makeup and nail polish and such. On the other hand, Hephaestus's tools and mechanical stuff are complete gibberish to me. Why can't the gods just conjure up whatever they need on their own? It would make my life (and my dad's, I guess) so much easier.

I hastily scribble down "place orders for Hephaestus" down in the to-do notebook I stashed in the same pocket as my phone, crossing off "deliver Aphrodite's box" afterwards. Copying down the names of the tools from Hephaestus's email, I decide that I'll just show the man at the Olympus hardware store the list to make things easier for myself.

The next task on my list is to…deliver mail to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood. That's a first; I suppose it's not important enough for Hermes anymore. "_Maia!_" I yell, and wings sprout from my shoes, fluttering slightly. How I wish I could teleport like a normal goddess…

After flying down from Olympus, my first stop is the Athena cabin, to say hi to Serena. I barely knock on the door once, and then the girl in question practically jumps out and attacks me with a hug. "Kristie! Hi! I've missed you so much! How's Olympus?"

"Hey, Serena. I've been so busy…I'm actually here to give a message to…" I search through my bag, finding the envelope among the rest of cluttered papers. "Alyssa Lamore, from her mother, Demeter."

Serena finally pulls back from the hug, laughing. "Sounds like fun. Go ahead and do your job. But you better say hi the next time you come, okay?" I nod, and we say our goodbyes before I head off to Cabin Four.

The Demeter kids are all in the gardens behind their flower-filled cabin, tending to whatever other plants they have back there. I call for Alyssa, and give her the envelope from her mother. She couldn't have been more than thirteen; she's certainly shocked to get word from Demeter, an Olympian, which is a rare occurrence. (Or perhaps she's shocked that I'm the person giving her the message. Who knows?)

I turn around, about to fly back to Olympus, but I crash into someone heading toward the Demeter cabin. Looking up, I see one of my favorite half-brothers, a surprised look on his face.

"Hey, Kristie," Travis says, "How's life been since you became a goddess?"

"Crazy. If you want to switch places, I'd be happy to," I reply, and he rolls his eyes.

"No, I'm good being mortal. Have fun living forever."

I stick my tongue out in response to him, before continuing, "So why are you headed to Demeter cabin anyways?"

The question catches him off guard, and he stutters a little as he talks. "Um…I'm not…going to that cabin?"

"There's nothing else in this direction."

"I'm just taking a walk around camp. Plus I need to scope out the space for a prank that Connor and I are planning." He seems to have thought of an adequate lie, and knowing how my half-siblings work, any more prodding would prove to be futile. My phone rings loudly, and after a quick goodbye to Travis, I answer it.

Without even waiting for me to talk, the person calling starts speaking quickly. "Kristie? This is Apollo. I have an important job for you. I need you to come to my room immediately."

I sigh. "You do know I can't do the whole godly teleport thing, right? So I can't get there in, like, a second."

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, obviously impatient. "Get here as fast as you can." With that, he hangs up, and my shoes carry me back up to Olympus. I wonder if those wings ever get tired.

Apollo opens the door before I even land in front of his room, and he begins giving me directions the second my feet touch the ground. "I need you to submit these haikus to every poetry compilation publisher in New York City." He hands me a thick packet of papers, and is about to close his door in my face.

"Wait!" The god looks up, irritated, and my next words have to be chosen carefully. "Um, excuse me, Lord Apollo, I don't think I can find every publisher in a big city like New York."

Apollo's exasperation is evident, though I don't know why the gods are aggravated so easily. "Fine. I have a list here." He disappears into the depths of his room for a second, and he returns with a sheet of paper, which he hands to me.

"Lord Apollo, there are at least fifty publishers on this list!" I exclaim, fortunately holding back those inappropriate words that would probably get me vaporized in an instant. "Did my dad – I mean, Lord Hermes – really do this for you?"

"Well, Kristie," he says, an amused smirk on his face, "I've honestly been meaning to ask him, but what with the Second Titan War and all the damage control he had to do with the mortals, he's been so busy. I figured now that the delivery business is split up between the two of you…"

"Um, Lord Apollo…" How do you contradict a god? I don't really want to pester all of those publishers with his horrible haikus. Looking down at the top paper, I'm holding back a grimace at the poems in front of me. Really, "_the sun between clouds_"? Is he just bragging about himself? Scanning through the other lines…the answer appears to be yes.

But apparently, my disgust at the sad excuse for poems (although saying that to his face would mean instant death) had been translated as silence, which had then been translated as consent. Apollo nods his head quickly and slams the door in my face.

Muttering curses quietly under my breath, I shuffle my feet down the hallway, feeling way too lazy to do everything I have to. Slowly, I pass all the rooms along the wall, wishing I had one of my own to relax in. Artemis… Hephaestus… Aphrodite… Hermes…wait, why do I hear _snoring?_

Hermes's door is slightly open, and hoping my dad won't kill me because I'm such a good secretary, I enter his room. He's sprawled out on his bed in the corner, completely passed out in sleep.

"_DAD!"_ I accidentally scream, thoroughly surprised. He jolts awake, looking around in a disoriented manner.

"Wha- Kristie? What are you doing here?" He rubs his eyes, yawning in the meantime.

"You- I- but- do gods even need sleep?" I barely manage to form coherent thoughts, the stressful month finally weighing down on me.

"Well, no," Hermes says in a slow voice, "We can stay awake indefinitely, but sleep gives us more energy. Plus, it's something to do when you get bored every now and then." I facepalm. My dad is here chilling out, while I work my butt off doing _his_ job.

Oh, I just love my life.

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><p><strong>Heh, yes, implied Tratie, because I saw the opportunity and took it. Not a crazy fan of the pairing (I don't know why no one ever ships Connor and Katie...), but I felt the urge. Aphrodite got out of control in my imagination...so I typed her up that way. <strong>

**Anyways, I hope you liked it! Constructive criticism greatly appreciated (and most likely very necessary)!**


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